


A Stillness in the Air

by DSJ_839



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28444776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DSJ_839/pseuds/DSJ_839
Summary: Kennedy Loser has a lawn couch and no one can tell him to get rid of it. Sometimes, Baldwin Breadwinner hangs out with him on the lawn couch. It'd be cool as shit to have a lawn couch if it never rained or seasons never changed and it wasn't actually a massive pain. It'd be so comfy.
Relationships: Baldwin Breadwinner/Kennedy Loser
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	A Stillness in the Air

There was a stillness in the air, that night.

The ascendant plane, which was not the name of where the Crabs were but a fair enough approximation, had proven a tough place to live for the three-time ILB champions. They had been denied every chance at victory, save for one that was won because of their opponent’s mistakes and not because of their strengths. They had been pulled from their world to one that felt like a hollow shell, a playset of a real place. The arenas they played in were seldom full, and when occupied were full of things that stretched the definition of existence itself. The cities they traveled to, on a plane that felt more metaphorical than real, were empty aside from the faintest signs of occupancy. Sometimes they could see that someone had lived in these places once, but no longer did. It invoked a deep fear on its own, and a deeper fear that their world might eventually be the same, scoured of life but not of property.

This was not a night of fear, however.

After practice, Breadwinner had gone over to the modestly-sized home Kennedy Loser had claimed for himself, a routine that had been closely followed since their 99th game, which had been their 98th loss. Ascension had torn away a small contingent of Crabs, but new bonds had been forged out of the dangers they now faced, and the desperate need for company in such a lonely and forgotten place. Over time, the new players had been accepted by the team, and found niches to fulfill in the social ecosystem. Things were not the same, but they were not worse, merely different.

It was dark outside, when Breadwinner and Loser sat on a couch he’d taken, not stolen, from a neighboring house. It was set up in the front yard under an assemblage of patio umbrellas, kept lit by creatively reassembled garden path lights, a gift from Pedro who had become something of a Daedalus-Icarus, both winged and inventive and far too close to the sun. The glow of the lights reflected off of Kennedy’s darker carapace, and the two enjoyed a moment of quiet in the absolute stillness of the night.

“You need a radio, or a record player.” Baldwin said, breaking the spell. “Maybe just one of those cheap CD players.”

“Why?” Kennedy asked, “I thought you said you liked the quiet.”

  
“Well, Ken, there’s quiet, and then there’s quiet. I like the quiet, but not the quiet, where it makes me feel like something’s tiptoeing around, ready to strike us down for intruding.” she replied, taking a sip of the brand-agnostic and yet ubiquitous beer she held. Tosser had gained a knack for finding decent food and drink since going up, something all the other Crabs thanked him for constantly.

  
“Baldwin, I think if something wanted us gone it wouldn’t mind being noisy. It’s pretty clear to me that we’re not seen as much by, well, anything Up Here. We’re ticks at best, annoying until you find ‘em and throw them in a glass to drown them. Had to do that with Tot a few seasons back, the poor little fox picked the suckers up somewhere and wasn’t too capable of getting rid of them.” Kennedy said, taking a sip of his own drink, a concoction he kept in his fridge and forbade anyone from looking at. Everyone assumed it was something high-proof, but it was more benign and embarrassing than alcoholic. Peppermint and lemon juice, a combination Kennedy unfortunately had gained a craving for.

  
“That’s reassuring, Ken.” Baldwin snorted, “But you’re right. Doesn’t make the silence less freaky.”

  
“Doesn’t, yeah.” he replied, “Glad Nagomi isn’t here to, uh, not hear it? Wasn’t a lot of sound in those shells, so I don’t think she would’ve liked it too much. Few times, back in Baltimore, caught her just making noise for the sake of it when it’d get quiet after practice, or a game. Never asked her why, cause I figured it was her business.”

  
“Yeah.” Baldwin said, “Bevan doesn’t like it a whole lot either, but he just… well, I’d say he deals with it but as far as I can tell he just tries to ignore it until it really gets to him. Isn’t a great way to cope, but I can’t get him to see that.”  
“We’ll figure it out.” Kennedy replied, “we’ve got plenty of time, I think. I think?”

  
“Sure. Sure, we do.” Baldwin said with a sigh, “Wish they’d tell us a goddamn thing about how long it is until the next season. We got the shit beat out of us for 99 days straight, and then nothing. Nothing! Say what you wanna about the fact we used to have that kid to deal with, at least he told us whatever he knew.”

  
“It is what it is.” Kennedy replied, “It is what it is what it is.”

  
“Fine, yeah. I’ll stop.” Baldwin said, leaning back into the couch and mildly onto Kennedy. A breeze picked up for a moment, not warm or cool but just the movement of air in a paradoxically suffocating atmosphere.

  
“So,” Kennedy said, clearing his throat. “You’ve been getting better at practice. Still got room to grow, but you’re getting there, you know? It’s, it’s nice to see.”

  
“Ken, just ask me.” Baldwin replied, “It’s obvious you’ve got a question, and I do have to go home at some point to show Bevan I wasn’t eaten by a rogue God or abducted by that saucer Silvaire and Luis have been tracking.”

  
Taking another drink of his obscene lemonstick water, and finding the courage he could muster, Kennedy began. “So, this is, uh, the first time I’ve really been in this kind of a situation, but… well, shoot, I like you, Breadwinner. I get this nice, warm feeling in my head when I’m around you, and I just can’t help but notice when you’re close to me, and I sure as hell can’t ignore when you’re looking at me at practice, even if that’s just to study my form cause I told you too.”

  
Baldwin smiled, a small smile, and said “Oh, I figured.”

  
“So no dice, then?” Kennedy quickly replied, the courage built up pulling apart almost immediately.

  
“Well. I have good news, and bad news.” she replied, “Let’s start with the bad. I don’t want anything complicated, not right now, not while we’re here. It’s bad enough watching people get torn apart back on Earth, like what happened with that asshole batter of yours when an Ump got him. Up here, there’s even less guarantees of safety for any of us, me and you included. But, I do… feel the same, not in the same ways but I get what you mean. And I’m gonna be honest, Kennedy, I need some kind of outlet for all the shit I’ve been feeling since we got here, and besides that, you’re cute. So, here’s the good news. I don’t want anything complicated, but I’d be happy to settle for something simple, if you get the gist.”

  
Kennedy gulped, to Baldwin’s internal delight, managing to say “Well, uh, I, I think I do. I think. Yeah, I get it. Uh. Sure.”

  
Beaming, Baldwin squeezed him tight, “Then we’ve got thirty minutes to see how simple feels before I need to hustle home, Ken.”

  
Kennedy nodded, mostly wordless and blushing.

The night was quiet as they stepped inside, and quiet after Baldwin left. Kennedy saw her off, and stood on the front stoop for a moment as she strode into the night, finding a new kind of ambience as she walked away in the pounding of his hearts. It was pleasantly distracting, he thought, and distractingly pleasant.

Elsewhere, a light cut across the desert plains of the ascended plane, and a gunslinger plus one followed.


End file.
